Little Red Memory
by kurgaya
Summary: AU - Sequel to The Sandcastle King! Unlike it's predecessor, this story isn't all fun and games. Neither is growing up really. Ichigo and Toshiro have grown up, but will they ever see each other again? Toshiro wants to. Does Ichigo?


Here I lie in a lost and lonely part of town,  
Held in time, in a world of tears I slowly drown.  
Goin' home, I just can't make it all alone,  
I really should be holding you,  
Holding you,  
Loving you, loving you

~ Tragedy (Celldweller)

* * *

The house was tenebrous. The whole street was adumbral actually but the slightly crooked house hunched on the corner was a dun colour, the shadowy walls and filthy windows gave the impression that it was aphotic, and always had been. The spiny plants clung onto the overused walls, but used for what even the house wasn't willing to tell, and the frigid fuliginous air snapped at the plants angrily and battered the windows without mercy. Dirt, rubbish, and brick lay scattered around the front garden – what little of it there was – and the burgundy door winced as a scream echoed around the house.

"Get the fuck out of my way!"

A bearded dumpy man shoved past the smaller in the hallway and continued on through the house in his rush: the boy that had been pushed aside groaned from his position on the floor. The soft house carpet petted the boy apologetically and the boy smiled, getting to his feet and dusting himself off as he stepped back to get out of the third occupant of the house's way; his mother was just as fat as his father.

"Don't just stand there boy, get out of the way!"

"Yes mother," he replied quietly, biting back a very sarcastic response and slipping quickly through the house and up the stairs so he didn't anger his parents any more.

_Fucking assholes._

The fourteen year old slammed his door shut irately, the sound echoed loud and brash, and he couldn't help but chuckle as he heard his mother screech at him not to make so much noise.

His bedroom was pretty small. There wasn't much in it – not that he owned much – but at least that way it was kept tidy. The single bed was against the far wall, the wardrobe and the desk being it's only friends. The desk itself was covered in paper and books (homework and homework) but to be honest none of the stuff in this cramped room was particularly valuable.

One day he was going to burn this shitty house down; memories and all.

The boy flopped onto his bed, the springs creaking painfully in their old age, and he snaked a pale hand down his shirt to pull out his one and only prized possession. _(If this house was gonna burn, this would be the only thing he was save)._

A little red whistle.

Tōshirō Hitsugaya smiled at the tiny object and traced his thumb over the minute engraving that had been carved there. He had done it himself (Heaven knows how a six year old had got his hands on a knife small enough for the job) and so the words were shakily and messy but he didn't care, for he could still read it, and he was the only one who knew what it meant.

_Ichi's dragon._

It had been eight years since he had spent his first and only day at the beach; his parents had locked him in his room without food for a week because he had run away. Despite that, it had been the best day of his short life and he had always hoped that he was going to meet Ichigo again. He didn't care when, he didn't care how, or why, but he just wanted to see the sandcastle king one more time.

After that – well he didn't really care. It wasn't the greatest ambition in life, but it was his, and he wasn't going to stray from it. His life sucked anyway so at least having something to look forward to kept him going everyday.

"Tōshirō Hitsugaya! Get down here RIGHT NOW!"

Tōshirō swore that if the house was alive it would be finding him a place to hide.

"The fuck I'm doing that!" Tōshirō yelled back, standing, and then rummaging through his wardrobe for a coat.

"Language young man!" scolded his father, who Tōshirō was sure had put down his beer bottle just to yell at him.

Slipping on trainers and the coat, Tōshirō slid open the window (thank god there was a tree there) and positioned himself in the frame. The chilly air almost knocked him back into the bedroom and thin brows dropped in annoyance as the thunderous pounding of his father's footsteps stalked up the stairs.

"Oi, house," Tōshirō called as he wrapped his coat tighter around himself and prepared to jump onto the tree. "Do me a favour and trip up my dad or something."

He didn't stay any longer than that, disappearing into the early morning like the moon, but if he had he would have heard an obstreperous crash and a flurry of shouted curses as his father fell down the stairs.

* * *

_Somewhere else in Karakura – a bit later_

A chocolate eye blinked open half-heartedly as the brain inside the head of golden orange hair registered the fact that the mobile lying on the desk beside the bed was ringing uproariously, its ringtone being sung for all to hear.

"Shut uppppp," Ichigo moaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. "I'm trying to sleep…"

However his phone demanded attention like a puppy who wanted a walk.

"Fine," he sighed, one of his hands reaching out from the safety of the warm covers and slapping the desk. He hunted around for the phone for a couple of seconds, suddenly worried that he was going to miss the call, but found it and clicked the green button.

"What?" he snapped, bringing the phone to his mouth.

"_Ah Kurosaki-kun! Sorry, did we wake you?"_

It was Orihime… And probably Tatsuki.

"Is Tatsuki with you?"

"_Yep! We were just wondering if you were doing anything today…?"_

"I dunno," Ichigo yawned, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. "What's the time?"

"_Midday,"_ snapped Tatsuki, and Ichigo heard Orihime giggle. _"Get your lazy ass out of bed Ichigo and come met us down at the cinema."_

"Cinema?"

"_Yes, that's what I said. Now chop, chop Ichigo, we'll see you in an hour."_

She hung up. Ichigo groaned and dropped the phone onto the duvet, curling up again. He wasn't going to get out of bed. There was no way he was going to the cinema. They couldn't make him. He wasn't budging. Now way in hell.

* * *

An hour later Ichigo was standing in a queue for cinema tickets. He wasn't quite sure how he had ended up getting out of bed but he presumed it had something to do with Tatsuki and her fists… or her foot, but Ichigo couldn't quite remember. All that he knew was that now he had a bruise on his chest and he had been tricked into spending the days with the two girls. He still had no idea what they were going to watch (part of the deal was that the girl's chose) but the orange haired teenager was sure it was going to be a very boring two hours.

Tatsuki had said to had served him right, and Ichigo guessed it did.

"What are we going to see again?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"It's a surprise!" Orihime cried, looking like Christmas had come early. "You'll find out when we get the tickets."

"Actually," Tatsuki said. "Why don't you go and get the popcorn Ichigo?" She turned to glare at the boy as if all Hell would break lose if he didn't do as she said. Ichigo put up his hands in surrender, suddenly baffled as to why he was being killed with a stare.

"Fine, whatever," he said. "What difference will it make?"

Tatsuki smiled this time as they all moved along in the queue. "Well when you're not here you can't stop us from watching a chick flick."

Oh dear god no.

Ichigo, who had just been backing out of the queue, stood and snapped his head around to stare at his two friends, mouth agape with horror. "Please tell me you're joking," he begged, ready to get down onto his knees if need be.

Orihime giggled, and she clapped her hands together with delight. There was a twinkle in Tatsuki's eyes that told Ichigo no, they weren't joking. "Kill me now," he muttered. "You are NOT taking me to watch a girly film."

"I think you'll find Ichigo," said Tatsuki slowed as Orihime bounded forward to pay for the tickets. "That we are."

Ichigo ran.

He was gone in a blur of orange, tearing through the cinema as easily as a knife through butter; twisting around a group of giggling teenagers; zipping past a family carrying three bags of popcorn; vaulting over a bench and apologising as a girl screamed, and headed towards the double glass doors that were getting closer,

Closer,

Closer,

Thump. Bang. Yell.

"ICHIGO KUROSAKI!"

Caught, like a mouse in a mouse trap _(or the cat's claws because Tatsuki had a really firm grip)._

Fuck it.

"No, no, no!" Ichigo yelled, struggling like the little mouse he was. "Lemme go, lemme go!"

Tatsuki's claws dug into his back, her sharp teeth bared. "Stop acting like a child Ichigo," she snapped, hoisting the taller off of the green carpet in one go. "It's just a film."

Ichigo continued to struggle, and a couple of people around them began to laugh. "You're not the one who has to suffer pink, makeup, and dresses!" he argued, trying to kick Tatsuki's feet out from under her.

The black haired girl jumped out of the way, a devilish smirk on her face. "We could always go home and dress you up in pink, makeup, and dresses if you want Ichigo. You really would be 'strawberry' then."

Orihime came over then, three tickets in her hands. "Ichigo wants a dress?" she asked ludicrously, surprise written all over her face. "I have a dress you can have! It's got flowers all over it!"

Ichigo admitted defeat, falling to his knees in front of Tatsuki, his shirt still in her grip. "No Inoue-san," he mumbled quietly. "I don't want a dress."

Tatsuki's smirk grew. "Great!" she cried. "Come on then, the movie's gonna start soon."

Not trusting Ichigo, she pulled him to his feet again and patted him on the head. "Good boy Ichigo," she said, much like someone would say to their puppy when they had learned a new trick. "Lead the way Orihime."

Orihime squealed and ran off to get popcorn. Tatsuki followed merrily, with Ichigo trudging along behind her.

"Somebody really hates me," the unfortunate boy said, keeping his head bowed.

A couple of people wearing shirts with 'BLEACH' written across them in strong, colourful letters sneezed.

* * *

_Meanwhile_

Little stones were kicked up into the open sky and Tōshirō sighed, the aroma of salt filling his nose as he took a deep breath into the harsh wind that battered against his shaking body, and he gazed out across the endless blanket of blue that was eating up the sand like a giant hungry mouth. He was standing in the exact same place that Ichigo had built a sandcastle around him, he was sure, and also where the crab had attacked him. He chuckled quietly at the memory, alone, and slipped his wandering eyes shut, putting the old whistle into his mouth.

He came here often – when his parents became too much for him – and to him, this was a place of peace and calm, almost like a personal sanctuary. Of course, the beach wasn't exactly the most personal place in the world, but on cold rainy days like it was today, only the brave few (of very stupid) would venture out of the warmth of their homes to come to this place.

The water was inviting, beckoning him in, but Tōshirō stayed put, for he knew that if he got caught in the hungry mouth there would be no one around to get him out (nobody cared about him).

But he also couldn't swim, so he guessed that counted too.

He'd like to learn how to swim – he'd seen loads of people do it. However it looked difficult and Tōshirō wondered how on earth they managed to like – well – not –

A deep sigh blew into the whistle, and a long, low note was emitted.

How they weren't _scared_.

He hadn't always been scared of water. But he could still never swim. And his father took advantage of that one day. He hadn't even done anything wrong! (It was that idiot Zack Moto's fault – he was the one who had smashed the window, not Tōshirō!) But, alas, he dad didn't give a damn and had 'accidentally' pushed him into the neighbour's pool and had honestly 'fallen asleep with his headphones in'.

Thank god the neighbour had cared. (The neighbour being Zack's mother).

He had never spoken to Zack again. He guessed it was for the best.

A shiver rippled through his body like the waves before him and in response he clutched his coat tighter to his small frame. Maybe I should get back on the train, he thought, but not moving. He didn't want to return to the bustling city and the practically-abusive lifestyle back at home. He was content here; why couldn't he stay?

His stomach whined at him.

"Oh shut up," he snapped.

* * *

_Back at the cinema - later_

"Eh Kurosaki-kun, we're just going to the bathroom."

"Alright Inoue-san."

Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, creeeeeeeak, click.

FREEDOM! Oh finally! That movie had sucked! Ichigo swore he had almost thrown up three times and if he wasn't so busy covering his hears he probably would have heard the sniffs and sobs of the girls sitting around him. Dear god, how had he survived? It had been torture in there! Hell, he'd rather get kicked around by his father, or eat Inoue's cooking –

Actually, he wasn't so sure about that one. Soft eyebrows dropped in thought. What was worse…? Inoue's cooking… or watching a girly film? Being poisoned? Or scarred for life? Poisoned… Scarred for life… Poisoned…

That was a hard one. Ichigo shrugged, leaning his relieved body up against the wall beside the bathroom entrance as he watched the giggling people travel past him without a care in the world. You know, he had never noticed how many people actually went to the bathroom after a film until today…

_15, 16, 17…_

It was quite amazing actually. Was there, like, a party or something going on in the girl's bathroom? Was it a gateway to another world? Or to a secret underground base? (Yes, he'd been watching too many sci-fi/action films). He'd never know. He shook his head. He'd never know. (And neither would the rest of the male population for that matter).

Ichigo wondered if the girl's thought the same about their bathroom.

The thought quickly vanished from his head when he snorted loudly. Yeah, there was no way in Hell that ever happened. Boys were curious people who knew absolutely nothing about the opposite gender. Girls understood things (except maybe the workings of male brains because really, that was a wonder to Ichigo himself, and he was a guy), but pretty much everything else.

Ichigo sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. Thank god he was gay.

An eruption of giggling tore Ichigo from his thoughts and he glanced over quickly to the right to see what was so funny. Apparently it was him, and the agitation must have showed on his scowling face for the group turned away from him, however they still continued to point and mutter to themselves.

The hell? What were they laughing at? God, there wasn't something on his face was there?

Sounding and thinking much like a girl, Ichigo whirled around, fully intending to totter into the bathroom to check to see if there was anything wrong with the way he looked, when he came face to face with the cheery smile of his strawberry blonde haired friend.

"Ah! Inoue-san!"

"Gonna make a runner for it Ichigo?" Tatsuki asked, stepping out from behind the other, drying her hands on her jacket in the process.

Ichigo paled. "No, no!" he denied truthfully, not that Tatsuki believed him. "I was just… Well…"

He didn't particularly want to tell them that he had gotten nervous over his appearance because a group of girls wearing 'BLEACH' shirts were staring at him, so he left the rest of the sentence hanging in the doubtful air like a thread: Tatsuki snatched that thread and yelled out in victory:

"We're so dressing you up later on for a punishment."

"Punish – Actually, never mind." (He wasn't going to win). "Do you wanna go to a café or something?" he asked instead, hoping to take Tatsuki's mind off of dressing him up.

"Ok!"

"Sure!"

Pause. The two girls shared a knowing look and then turned to Ichigo, both smiling widely, and much to like those other girls in Ichigo's opinion.

"You're paying."

* * *

_A tad later_

The café was one of Ichigo's favourites. It was only a short distance from the cinema. The cream coloured walls and brown doors made you feel at home, and Ichigo wandered in happily (despite him punishment later) with a smile on his face as Tatsuki and Orihime talked behind him about what drinks they were going to order. The aroma of coffee was strong and filled the air like a fog, but only pleasant. It wasn't busy, mainly because it was raining outside, but that made it all the better as the three teenagers strode other to a table by the large clear windows and flopped down on the springy sofas.

"What are you having Ichigo?" Tatsuki asked, scanning her eyes over the menu.

"Probably a cappuccino."

Tatsuki nodded approvingly just as a waiter came over. "What would you like?" the short girl asked, flicking open her notepad to jot down the orders.

"Cappuccino for me," said Ichigo.

"I'll have a hot chocolate," said Tatsuki.

"And can I have a tea?" asked Orihime.

The waiter nodded, her dark hair falling over her eyes. "Anything else?"

Tatsuki shook her head, but Ichigo decided to treat his friends, "And three triple chocolate muffins please."

The waiter smiled again, and thanked them, quickly scurrying off to the counter.

"Tea Orihime?" Tatsuki asked, bewildered. "I thought you would have had an iced coffee like normal."

"Yeah, but it's cold and wet outside! And I haven't had a good tea in a while."

"With your cooking, no tea's good tea," mumbled Ichigo, and Tatsuki reached across the table and hit him for it.

For the next twenty minutes or so the friends just laughed and chatted away in the café, their steaming drinks in their hands, and their hearts warming as the rain poured outside. They had no cares; no worries (except maybe in Ichigo's case if he was going to be punished or not), and they just passed their time together not knowing the fact that somebody across the street was watching them carefully.

* * *

_5 minutes ago, not far away_

How Tōshirō wished his coat had a hood. Well, more than anything he wished he had a little bit of money on him so he could go into a café or something and buy himself a hot drink. He didn't want to go in without ordering anything because he thought that to be slightly rude, and so instead he maundered the streets in hope of finding some sort of cover.

The rain was hard and the clouds were black, swallowing the sun only to later reveal the moon, and Tōshirō sneezed loudly. A passer-by said 'bless you' and the white haired boy smiled, thanking whoever it had been silently.

_At least some people in this world were nice. Like Ichigo for instance._

Deciding to rest his aching legs Tōshirō sat down on the soaked bench (he was already drenched, what did it matter?) and let out a sigh of relief at the action. He wasn't quite sure where he was, not having come to this part of Karakura before, but at least that meant it would take him longer to find his way back home.

There was a crash of thunder and Tōshirō jumped in shock, toppling and falling off of the bench backwards. He hit the stone cold pavement on his shoulder and hissed at the pain, his face now pressed against the wet, his eyes staring out across the street.

This sucks, Tōshirō thought, pushing himself up onto his knees. I must look like an idiot down here, he mused, frowning, and then flicking his straight damp hair out of his eyes. I must look like a girl too.

A deep sigh escaped his lips and he climbed slowly to his feet, glaring angrily at the cream coloured shop opposite him. It looked warm, he noticed, and disappointed rose up inside of him like a balloon. Karma must hate him, putting a café so close to him but also –

_Holy shit was that Ichigo?_

Bright orange hair screamed at him from the café.

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._

It was Ichigo! He'd recognise that hair anywhere! Fancy that, seeing him in the middle of a storm? What luck! Maybe Karma didn't hate him as much as he thought…

This wasn't true, for in the next second there was a blinding blast of light, screeching of rubber, and another crash of thunder.

* * *

_In the café_

"Holy shit did you see that?"

"Yeah! That car just skidding off of the road!"

"What a fucking moron."

"He shouldn't have been driving so fast."

"For god's sake, he could've killed someone."

There was a sudden smashing of china as Tatsuki's empty cup slipped from her hands. "Ichigo! Ichigo!" she yelled, tuning her ears out from the calls and shouts of the other people in the café. Her orange haired friend turned, wide eyed, towards her, confused.

"What?" he asked, his mind still trying to accept the fact that a car had just crashed outside the café.

"Look, look! There's a kid lying on the pavement!"

Ichigo snapped his head around and saw that Tatsuki was right. He opened his mouth to tell her to call an ambulance but she was already doing it, firing words down the phone at a rapid pace. The other people in the shop were gasping and pointing, and Ichigo was relieved to see that somebody outside was kneeling beside the child, blocking him/her from view and also checking injuries.

"Should we go out and help?" Orihime asked, her eyes also glued to the scene.

Tatsuki snapped her mobile shut, shaking her head. "No point. The ambulance'll be here in a couple minutes and there isn't anything we can do."

Both Ichigo and Orihime frowned at her words, feeling as if there was something they could do.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" asked Orihime after a moment's silence, looking crestfallen.

"Who? The driver?" Ichigo asked.

"No, the white haired boy who got hit. The man was driving pretty fast."

_White haired boy?_

"Whoa, whoa," said Ichigo. "Did you just say 'white haired'?"

Tatsuki and Orihime both stared at him. Orihime nodded.

Something, Ichigo wasn't sure what, or even why, clicked in his brain. Without another word he bolted out of the café into the rain. He didn't get very far though, for the ambulance was sitting in the road, but he got as close as he could to the accident before the newly arrived police officer put his arm out to stop him.

Ichigo ignored the man's words and stared at the stretcher that two of the medics were carrying.

"Tōshirō…" he whispered, staring as the boy's half open teal eyes gazed sleepily over towards him.

_No… Don't go to sleep…_

"Tōshirō!" he yelled, this time loud enough for the other to hear him. A gurgled, bloodied cough was his response, and the ambulance doors slammed shut before he could even think about saying another word. "Tōshirō…! No…No, Tōshirō!"

He didn't feel Tatsuki's warm hands pull him away from the road, nor did he notice Orihime opening an umbrella over their heads. The only thing he registered was the flashing lights of the ambulance as it darted down the empty street, and the sharp bites of the wind and rain against his skin.

"Ichigo," Orihime muttered softly. "Come on Ichigo, let's get you inside."

"No, no," Ichigo argued, taking a step away from his friend. He immediately regretted it for he heard a crunch of something under his feet, and quickly lifted his foot and glanced down.

"Oh…" he said, bending down and picking up the small object. He flipped it in his hands a couple of times, unaware of Tatsuki's worried gaze, and read the engraving on the old red plastic when he spotted it carved messily in the side.

That, he regretted too.

* * *

**Hey guys, hoped you liked it! Sorry for the slightly rushed ending, but I wanted to get this done and out of the way so I'd stop worrying about it.**

**Until whatever I post next,**  
**xTKx**

**Edit 24/11/10 - cause I forgot:**

**Now has a sequel!**


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